


The Apocalypse Menu

by Houseplant



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Even alone he refuses to admit it, Five is just as traumatized as the rest of them. He's just better at hiding it., Five talks to himself, Five-centric, Gen, Isolation does cause a sort of mental break at some point, Just a Boy and The End Of The World... and the decisions that come with it, NO PSUEDO-INCEST, No Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 13:50:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18283577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Houseplant/pseuds/Houseplant
Summary: The menu in the apocalypse wasn't all bad. One could even get used to cockroach sandwiches-- but food isn't the only thing the end of the world is serving.-A look into Five's mental state various times during his forty years of isolation, before The Handler thought him broken enough to mold to her will.





	The Apocalypse Menu

The first few years in the Apocalypse weren’t  _ that _ bad. As far as Five could tell, all life on Earth had been eradicated, crushed beneath cataclysmic rubble whose source he couldn’t determine-- he hadn’t even found the body of the single-eyed wonder, possibly the harbinger of all the desolate destruction the boy now found himself in the midst of.

 

Being thirteen wasn’t an unusual concept to Five. He knew the basics, puberty, body hair, a cracking voice, an ungodly funk while his body sort its shit out-- What he  _ didn’t _ know (and thank goodness there wasn’t anyone in the apocalypse for him to confide that in, not that he would) was how being thirteen  _ in the end of the world _ worked out.

 

If one was to follow the societal conventions of his age (and he wasn’t particularly keen on following  _ normalcy _ ), he should be worrying over his first or fifteenth crush and not… whatever  _ crushed _ his siblings. At least, the ones he could find. He still hadn’t found Ben, and there was something that he was naive enough to call  _ hope _ that maybe… maybe he wasn’t completely alone at the end of all things.

 

Vanya’s book changed that, crushing that glimmer of hope like concrete cascading down on the fragile human vertebrae. It said that Ben had died in a horrific and tragic way, but gave no further detail. Five didn't need it, he had a lifetime to extrapolate all scenarios possible and impossible for the causation of his brother's death-- that was, if he survived himself.

 

The falling ash billowing serenely from the sky wasn't something he wanted to breathe in. If he had wanted smokers long at thirteen, Five would have started when Klaus did. So that was his first order or business, finding something other than the academy-issued blazer to cover his mouth with, as the cotton-wool blend hadn't exactly been mission ready, and it was far from a decent respirator.

 

He found what he needed in the ruins of a general goods store. The building was still standing.. For the most part. The sliding glass doors had shattered inward and outward, crystalline shards of glass glittering amongst the rubble like apocalyptic sequins, adorning the fabric of the end of the world with cynical humor that Five didn’t yet appreciate as the glass crunched beneath his shoes, deafening with silent  _ hush _ of ever-present ash falling in the background.

 

“Hello--? Anyone?” He called out, blaming the air quality for the way his voice pitched itself higher on the ‘one’. A full day hadn’t even passed, and there was a looming feeling that all he would find inside would be more corpses.  It was a sardonic blessing of probability that he wasn’t  _ Klaus _ , he couldn’t imagine his brother keeping his wits this long surrounded by death. No doubt the ghosts of his siblings were all vying for attention, shouting out their secrets and the name of whoever it was that possessed that eye, and  _ he couldn’t hear it _ . Five couldn’t even jump a measly five feet-- he was  _ stuck. _

 

No answer came forth from the cavernous depths of the abandoned store, the last dregs of electrical equipment gone haywire emitting a low buzz that set Five’s teeth on edge. Without the fluorescent, overhead lighting, it seemed like a whole new place, though he was certain that he and his family had frequented this very shop many a time before, between missions or after training to get snacks and so that Klaus could wander off and return to them with a glassy look in his eyes, already high at such a young age.

 

“Is anyone alive in here?” Five tried again, keeping his voice level as he stepped through the threshold of the store, blinking a few times to adjust to the lower levels of light as his footsteps echoed just as eerily as they had outside. All his life he had been groomed to save people, and the instinct didn’t die that easily. (That spark of wanting to see some good in people wouldn’t die, not even forty years later when it was coated in dust and distrust.)

 

Whatever had happened to cause the collapse of… the town? The city? The entire world? Five didn’t yet know-- whatever it had been had had enough force that everything was knocked off the shelves, and even the ones that had been bolted into the ground were askew. It was unsettling, in its own way. But he didn’t let it get to him. Outside the ash fell steadily, dusk would set soon and… if there were survivors, he needed to find them.

 

As he walked through the aisles, Five picked up anything he thought might be useful. A scarf with a weave that he could breathe through, yet was fine enough that the largest particles of ash wouldn’t destroy his lungs. Snow goggles came next, for even though night would soon be upon him, he didn’t much fancy having to glare through sun  _ and _ ash as he… …. …. What would he do?

 

He could figure that out with the sunrise, Five decided, grabbing some snacks that hadn’t perished in the turmoil; a few packets of beef jerky, a canister of peanut butter, a jar of marshmallow fluff. The bread had been utterly destroyed by part of the ceiling that had collapsed in, ash dancing down in a dusty beam of light. He side-stepped the area, deciding that should any survivor rise from the rubble (he hadn’t seen anyone), they could benefit from the carbohydrate load that was white bread. He didn’t take everything, not in the early days-- he still held out hope that someone else would need it.

 

“Thanks,” Five called to the empty store, swiping a couple of lighters from the impulse area by the front checkout counter on his way out, settling the scarf around his neck and positioning it enough so that it covered his nose and his mouth, keeping out the worst of the debris from his still developing lungs. “I’ll… be going now. I need to check on my family.”

 

It was a lie, and the oppressive silence knew it, but it didn’t call him out on his bluff. Five already knew his family was dead, but… though their eyes no longer looked at anything on the mortal plane, he found himself heading back to the ruins of the academy, taking a deep breath when he was once more greeted with the unmistakable sight of his siblings’ corpses beneath heaps of rubble.

 

Luther’s hand was still outstretched, fingers curled around the empty space where the prosthetic in Five’s pocket now resided. Five tapped each of the larger man’s fingers, studying his face intently for a reaction-- even though he’d already known they were  _ dead _ .

 

He moved on to Allison, whose eyes were just as wide. “What did you see?” He mused aloud, waving a hand in front of her, and she continued staring-- those eyes would never register another thing on this plane of existence, and it was depressing.

 

So he moved on to Klaus. Klaus, whose aesthetic had been recognizable on sight, eyes wide and.. Defeated. There was a story there, Five decided, tearing open the packet of jerky and defiantly shoving a piece in his mouth. “You can wake up now, you know,” He grumbled through a mouth full of leathery meat, staring down his brother-- the man had to be what,  _ thirty _ , now?  “This isn’t funny anymore.” Not that it had ever been, but, who better to voice his frustrations to than the one sibling who had proved there was  _ something _ after their fragile, mortal bodies no longer drew breath? Speaking out loud also helped him process his thoughts, not that he would admit that to anyone. (Not that there  _ was _ anyone to admit it to.)

 

“What happened?” Five mused, taking seat behind Klaus’ vacant eyes, glancing towards the horizon as if it would hold any answers. Drawing his knees close to himself, the tub of marshmallow fluff that he’d liberated was also opened, and he dipped another piece of the jerky inside of it, munching on it listlessly. “Who did you fight? ...Where  _ are _ they? It’s just you guys here, no other body, they got away-- but to where?”

 

“How long have you all been like this?” Five sighed, sealing the bag of jerky back up and stowing it in the internal pocket of his blazer. He should have grabbed some disposable cutlery while he was at the store, the fluff was too sticky to eat without some type of transport vehicle, and he was rather done with the jerky. It, too, was sealed up. “....Is anyone else still alive, out there?” He pulled the scarf back up over his mouth, to keep out the bits of ash and rubble that were still floating around.

 

Once more, he tried to jump back. To go  _ home _ \-- his hands glowed blue, but time nor space bent to his will, and it fizzled out despite all his concentration. “Shit.” The monosyllabic word was desolate, defeated. Only the dead could hear it, and he rest his forehead atop his knees.

 

“I’ll deal with you guys in the morning.” The sun was setting, and if he too became a victim of the rubble and ashes, he wouldn’t be able to help anyone. “And then… I’ll get back. Go back. I’ll return before all this happens and I’ll  _ fix it _ .”

 

The silent world seemed so large, so vast, and his voice sounded so small, muffled slightly by the scarf, yet his words were coloured with determination, and  _ spite _ . Even if there was no one else around, if he truly was an anomaly brough to this time through his own hubris, Five  _ would _ fix it.

 

“I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> This story got away from me. I only have a few weird /desperate food combos planned, so if you want me to work something into future chapters in this, let me know and I'll try to use it!


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